


Lost Love

by TheMightyGhost



Series: Stories [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Marriage, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, mentions of Thanos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 05:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyGhost/pseuds/TheMightyGhost
Summary: She hoped it wasn't a dream.





	Lost Love

“I miss you.”

The sea breeze blew her hair gently. She closed her eyes, facing the setting sun and the choppy waters below. 

“Thor said this was where your father passed away. He still hasn’t ventured back here. He claims it is because of Mjölnir, but I know him better than that. He is lost in his grief.” She sighed, pressing her fingernails into her palms hard enough to leave deep, crescent impressions. 

“I miss you…” she repeated, opening her eyes to watch a few seabirds lazily gliding through the air. “My chest feels empty.” She placed her clenched hand over her heart, unbidden tears welling in her red-rimmed eyes. “As though my heart has been carved out. My heart is gone.”

She moved closer towards the sea, sitting herself down so her legs were dangling over the edge of the cliff. “I was naive to have hope. All those who were taken by Thanos have returned, all those who were turned to dust… they have been reunited with their loved ones. But there are so many who have perished… so many Asgardians who still mourn for their loved ones. Heimdall is gone. Half of the surviving Asgardians fleeing from Hela are gone. And you. You’re gone.” She swallowed down the lump rising in her throat. “It has been five years. It hurts as much as it did the day I found out…”

She looked down at the waves lapping against the cliff face, breathing in and out slowly. It would be so easy to push herself off… it would be so easy to succumb to the whims of the ocean… it would be so easy…

The exact moment Sigrid pushed herself over the edge, two strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and yanked her back up, dragging her away from the edge. She was shaking, both from shock and the cold, feeling as numb as her frozen fingers. 

“What in all the Nine are you playing at?!” a familiar voice demanded, surprisingly warm hands holding her head, forcing her to look at the face of a ghost. “You stupid girl!”

She couldn’t speak. She barely reacted when her dead husband cradled her in his arms, rocking her as though she was a fretful newborn. His palm pressed against her forehead, and moments later, Sigrid fell into darkness. 

She slowly stirred from her slumber, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she sat up and stretched out the kinks in her muscles. She was in her cosy cottage in her bed, all warm and snug with a hot water bottle resting against her belly. She cuddled the hot water bottle to her chest, turning onto her side, deciding she deserved a few minutes more in bed.

It had been a strange dream. She could recall most every detail perfectly. In the dream, she had woken up as usual, she had gone through her morning routine, she had then gone to the cliff and… tried to throw herself into the waters below. But then her dead husband had rescued her. And then… she had woken up.

Huh.

His touch had felt so real. He had looked so real… so alive… his dark hair framing his pale, angular face… his burning bright eyes… the power radiating off of him like perfume… even his smell… it had felt so real…

Her bedroom door slowly creaked open. Sigrid was too tired to react, merely gazing at the door as a lone figure stepped inside, carrying a tray of food. 

“Am I still dreaming?” she whispered hoarsely. 

He set the tray down at the foot of the bed, crouching down next to her, his hand coming up to rest on her cheek. She closed her eyes, relishing in how intimate and real her dream was. “This isn’t a dream, little one,” he whispered. “This is real, I promise you.”

“Please don’t lie…” she opened her eyes, tears spilling silently from her eyes. He gently wiped a few tears away, looking close to crying himself. “I don’t care if this is a dream, I like it. I really missed you…”

“I know, my love. I missed you too.” He pressed a soft kiss to her brow. “Sit up, I made you something to eat.”

He helped her sit up, grabbing the tray from the foot of the bed before sitting in the bed next to her. He hooked one arm around her, holding her close as he started feeding her forkfuls of scrambled eggs and toast. 

It tasted real. She was beginning to doubt that she was dreaming. But if she wasn’t dreaming… how was he here? He was dead… right?

“You’re dead.”

“I was.” 

“But you’re alive.”

“I am.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” he admitted. “One minute, I was floating through space with a broken neck, the next thing I know, I’m being taken to a secluded sanctuary by a strange hooded figure. He… he had the Tesseract, that’s all I know. He left before I could… ask any questions.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple when she started crying again. “Eventually, my brother and his Guardian friends found me. I returned this morning. Brunnhilde said that you had been seen going to the cliff… thank the Norns I found you in time.” His voice broke. “If I had lost you…”

He set the tray onto the floor, allowing Sigrid the opportunity to climb onto him, curling herself up against his chest. She didn’t say anything, she just listened to the sound of him crying as her own tears soaked his shirt. 

They swayed to the soft melody playing on the radio, her face pressed into his chest, his chin resting on top of her head. 

Loki cupped her cheeks between his palms, pressing soft kisses to her brow and the tip of her nose and her lips, relishing her with the love she had been denied for five long years. 

They weren’t alone any longer. 


End file.
